The original cast of "Faust" was never improved upon. What Martha was ever so good as [Mrs. Stirling]? The dear old lady's sight had failed since "Romeo and Juliet," but she was very clever at concealing it. When she let Mephistopheles in at the door, she used to drop her work on the floor so that she could find her way back to her chair. I never knew why she dropped it—she used to do it so naturally with a start when Mephistopheles knocked at the door—until one night when it was in my way and I picked it up, to the confusion of poor Mrs. Stirling, who nearly walked into the orchestra.
"Faust" was abused a good deal as a pantomime, a distorted caricature of Goethe, and a thoroughly inartistic production. But it proved the greatest of all Henry's financial successes. The Germans who came to see it, oddly enough, did not scorn it nearly as much as the English who were sensitive on behalf of the Germans, and the Goethe Society wrote a tribute to Henry Irving after his death, acknowledging his services to Goethe!
It is a curious paradox in the theater that the play for which every one has a good word is often the play which no one is going to see, while the play which is apparently disliked and run down is crowded every night.
Our preparations for the production of "Faust" included a delightful "grand tour" of Germany. Henry, with his accustomed royal way of doing things, took a party which included my daughter Edy, Mr. and Mrs. Comyns Carr, and Mr. Hawes Craven, who was to paint the scenery. We bought nearly all the properties used in "Faust" in Nuremberg, and many other things which we did not use, that took Henry's fancy. One beautifully carved escutcheon, the finest armorial device I ever saw, he bought at this time and presented it in after years to the famous American connoisseur, Mrs. Jack Gardiner. It hangs now in one of the rooms of her palace at Boston.
It was when we were going in the train along one of the most beautiful stretches of the Rhine that Sally Holland, who accompanied us as my maid, said:—
"Uncommon pretty scenery, dear, I must say!"
When we laughed uncontrollably, she added:
"Well, dear, I think so!"
During the run of "Faust" Henry visited Oxford and gave his address on "[Four Actors]" (Burbage, Betterton, Garrick, Kean). He met there one of the many people who had recently been attacking him on the ground of too long runs and too much spectacle. He wrote me an amusing account of the duel between them:
"I had supper last night at New College after the affair. A—— was there, and I had it out with him—to the delight of all.
"'Too much decoration,' etc., etc.
"I asked him what there was in 'Faust' in the matter of appointments, etc., that he would like left out?'
"Answer: Nothing.
"'Too long runs.'
"'You, sir, are a poet,' I said. 'Perhaps it may be my privilege some day to produce a play of yours. Would you like it to have a long run or a short one?' (Roars of laughter.)
"Answer: 'Well—er—well, of course, Mr. Irving, you—well—well, a short run, of course for art, but—'
"'Now, sir, you're on oath,' said I. 'Suppose that the fees were rolling in £10 and more a night—would you rather the play were a failure or a success?'
"'Well, well, as you put it—I must say—er—I would rather my play had a long run!'
"A—— floored!
"He has all his life been writing articles running down good work and crying up the impossible, and I was glad to show him up a bit!
"The Vice-Chancellor made a most lovely speech after the address—an eloquent and splendid tribute to the stage.
"[Bourchier] presented the address of the 'Undergrads.' I never saw a young man in a greater funk—because, I suppose, he had imitated me so often!
"From the address:
"'We have watched with keen and enthusiastic interest the fine intellectual quality of all these representations from Hamlet to Mephistopheles with which you have enriched the contemporary stage. To your influence we owe deeper knowledge and more reverent study of the master mind of Shakespeare.'
"All very nice indeed!"